Lock and Key
by MlleVictoire
Summary: DI Sasha Key works cold cases for the Scotland Yard. She believes her work is mostly unnoticed, until John is away and Sherlock asks her to play. She quickly decides to play, glad to break free from mundane. As she follows Sherlock, she'll soon learn the price of playing Sherlock's game. Sherlock/OC. Set after "A study in Pink" and before "The Blind Banker"
1. Come Play With Me?

I sat down in front of my mirror, preparing for another mundane day at work. I glanced over my features. I could be seen as attractive by society's standards, but I was never noticed. My eyes were a brilliant blue. But I knew they only stood out against the darkness of my hair. My hair looked like black velvet. It was very curly, and reached a little farther than my shoulders. My chest was rather average, and I wasn't skinny, but I was by no means "chunky." I was also short, reaching only 160 centimeters. My skin was rather pale, evidence of working in an office all day, but also quite a few freckles to reveal the time I liked to spend in the sun.

My name is Sasha Key. I'm a Detective Inspector for the Scotland Yard. I work in the cold case division, because I'm good at it. I am able to solve most of the cases I'm handed, because I don't like to fret around with social activities that distract everyone else. Without distractions, I can see what they can't. I remain unnoticed, however. And that was the way I like it. Being unnoticed had its perks, as I could do practically anything, within the limits of my badge, of course. Even the great Sherlock Holmes has failed to actually notice me yet. Even though he frequents my office because of his boredom. Usually, he'd just come in loudly, he'd pace the floor, muttering about something, snatched the folders she always left aside for him and leave without glancing in her direction.

I left my apartment, on my way to the office. I sighed, as I remembered my lease was up, and I still had 3 days to find a new place before I was officially homeless. I still hadn't found a place to my liking with my salary.

Sherlock Holmes was waiting for me when I reached my office. I wondered what he could want; I knew it wasn't any of the cold case files, as I'd given him a key to my office so that he would stop picking the lock. He didn't seem to acknowledge me as I unlocked my office, and entered, he did follow me in, however.

"Mr. Holmes," I decided to speak, "To what do I owe the pleasure? Certainly not my files, since you have access to them at all times."

A ghost of a smile appeared on his face. I giggled inwardly, he was trying to be "normal." He always looked uncomfortable when he tried to be polite.

"I came by to inquire that I might have your assistance."

I almost laughed out loud. "What of your friend, Dr. Watson?" I could see a glimpse of frustration and sadness come across his features, but extremely briefly.

"He is angry with me, and left to stay with a friend for a few days. I need assistance. I have read the notes you have left for me amongst the files I have snatched from your desk, and come to the conclusion you are more than capable of not being boring. For your assistance, I could help with your predicament."

"To which predicament do you refer?" I asked him, smirking. I had always found Sherlock Holmes rather amusing, compared to everyone else. I already knew what he meant, but he liked to show off.

"Why, you need a new flat to live in, Ms. Key," an honest smirk crossed his face then. "You have done a minimal amount to fix your hair, and makeup, as you usually do, meaning you've most likely packed most of your possessions already. You have bits of cardboard on your jeans, most likely from scraping against the flap of the open box you have yet to finish filling. I know you haven't found a place yet because you still have papers of advertising flats for rent laying on your desk, most of which you've written quite a few derogatory comments about, meaning you haven't like any of them. I have, Mrs. Key, knowledge of a flat that would suit you most well for your price range. In exchange for your assistance."

I smiled warmly at him. I was already going to agree, without any incentive. I put the coat back on that I had just taken off, "Please, lead the way, Mr. Holmes."

HE was excited then, like a small child that had just been told he could finally ride the "big kid" rides at the amusement park.

"Excellent!" he proclaimed. With a swish of he coat, he was swiftly out the office door and on his way to his next great adventure, with me in tow.


	2. Settling In

Suddenly, I found myself grateful for wearing rather casual clothes to work today, as Sherlock had me (quite literally) running all over town.

A man had been murdered. He was a boring accountant, no real family, or friends. His death was made to look like a suicide, although any detective that actually cared about their job could tell it wasn't. Everything was simply too.. Perfect. Except one Sherlock had noted a clot of dirt. Running his usual tests, he discovered the dirt came from an area our accountant had never been before.

The dirt had led them to a maintenance man, who had been there the day before the accountants' death. The maintenance man had given them testimony, however, that there wasn't a man that lived there, but a very attractive woman.

He had described her as tall, with bouncy blonde hair, ruby red lips, and very curvy. The maintenance man said that he'd come at the request of a Ms. Roxanne Grigsby.

I noticed the maintenance man begin to blush as he admitted that she had given him his number. I giggled inwardly as I began to realize why he was so embarrassed to have her number.

We had left the maintenance man, and were in a taxi on our way to Baker street. "So what do you think, Mr. Holmes?"

"Sherlock, please. The maintenance man was obviously very attracted to this Ms. Grigsby, very embarrassed. Possibly an inappropriate relationship, or possibly an inappropriate profession."

"If it's an inappropriate profession, why was she at the home alone? Requesting a maintenance man?"

Sherlock didn't answer me. He seemed to be lost in thought.

Very soon, we arrived at 221B Baker street. I followed Sherlock wordlessly as swiftly moved through the door, removing his scarf and jacket. I barely stepped across the threshold when I received a text from Lestrade, also asking for my assistance.

I contemplated momentarily, before deciding to help Lestrade. "Sherlock, I have to return to the office for a moment. You have my number I trust?" He didn't say anything, just handed me his phone to input my number.

It was a good twenty minutes later that I arrived at Lestrade's office. I knocked, and entered briefly.

"Ah! Key, what can I do for you?" I suppose I looked incredibly dumbfounded as he asked, "What? What is it?"

"You texted me. Said you needed help with a case." He only shook his head, "Sorry, I haven't. Must have been some sort of mistake."

I shrugged it off, and left without thinking much about it. Once outside, I decided to walk back to Sherlock's, as it was a particularly good day outside. I was only two blocks away from 221B Baker street when I was stopped by a man giving out fliers. He was relatively handsome, tall with short black hair. He was rather casually dressed. He had a friendly smile plastered on his face, but I could see the minute tell tale signs in his face how forced it was.

"Why, hello, miss," he called out to me. His voice was soft, and very pleasing. I found it distracting from my thoughts before. "Would you be interested in a flyer?"

I took it, glancing at it. Moving services. _How coincidental, _a voice in the back of my head rang out. But he spoke again, and it was again ignored.

"I'm very good, I'm just a little short on cash. It's been hard, you know. Since my parents passed, and it's just been me and my little brother."

_Lie, _suggested the voice as I watched him feign being humble. "What's your name?" I asked. He pointed it out on the flyer as he told me, "James. James Mortan. But such a lovely lady like you, you can call me Jim."

I smiled politely at him. "It was nice meeting you, Jim. I actually might need your help in a few days. But right now, I really must get back, I have someone waiting on me."

"I understand, I'm sorry from keeping you from your boyfriend." I couldn't stop it. I just laughed. Sherlock Holmes and "boyfriend" were not two words that should be associated.

"No," I clarified. "Not my boyfriend. Associate."

He seemed to blush then, "My apologies," he smiled flirtatiously now, "I just assumed that such a beautiful woman like you would be off to see her boyfriend."

I blushed slightly this time. As I thought how pathetic I was to have never had a boyfriend. But I never needed one. I always had my work, my books to be lost in. I was always content with the life I had. It's only at this moment that I've ever really felt lonely, that I've ever really wanted something like that. I was thankful, it was only a fleeting feeling.

"No," I replied, "No boyfriend." He feigned a look of sympathy as he sprouted off another flirtatious apology.

"Perhaps I'll see you in a few days, Jim." and with that, I walked off, continuing my way back to baker street.

When I walked back into the flat, I found Sherlock sitting in an armchair staring at his phone.

"Welcome back, I was just about to text you," he greeted.

"Anything new?" I asked.

"Case solved. Much more boring than I originally thought. Ms. Roxanne was paid for her live-in relations with our accountant, very promiscuous of a woman, hence the inappropriate relationship with our maintenance man. She also had a boyfriend. Embezzled money from our accountant, trying to rob him blind. Obviously the accountant caught on, confronted her, killed him and escaped into the sunset with said boyfriend."

I simply nodded, " Congratulations on another case, Sherlock. Do you need my assistance further?"

"No, I have no other cases.." he trailed off, flinging his phone across the room. "I'm so terribly bored."

He flung his head back, like a child whose mother had just told him he couldn't have ice cream.

"And the flat you thought I might be interested in?" I asked.

"Right!" He flung himself out of the armchair swiftly. It amazed me, honestly. He was so tall and lanky, one would assume he would be rather clumsy.

_And one should never assume anything about a certain Mr. Sherlock Holmes_

He was quickly past me, and out the door, calling for Ms. Hudson

I met them downstairs, hearing Sherlock's deep baritone voice as he spoke quickly to a frail looking older lady.

"Ms. Hudson, I have a lovely friend that's interested in looking at the 221C flat."

"Oh! Of course dear, of course. Just a second.." she muttered as she retreated back into her flat, "let me grab the key," she muttered more to herself than us.

"What makes you think I'll be so interested in this flat?" I asked.

"Because, Ms. Sasha Key, I am Sherlock Holmes. I know what you like."

He had a confident smirk plastered on his face and soon Ms. Hudson returned with her keys.

"It's a wonderful flat, dearie, really. Bit of damp, but it is a basement flat, mind you."

She finally opened the door, and walked in, muttering various things about the flat. Sherlock gave me an "after you" gesture and I entered the flat.

I didn't want to admit just how much I loved it. Sure, there was a bit of mold, it was a little dirty after not being used in so long, and the wallpaper was atrocious, but it was nothing I couldn't handle.

I talked to Ms. Hudson about rent and other various things before finally agreeing to take the flat. She seemed rather over joyous, handing me a copy of the key.

She left the flat as she remembered she had something in the oven, leaving me standing there with Sherlock.

"Thank you, Sherlock. I suppose this means we're neighbors now." He only nodded, and left. I couldn't help but smile, staring around at my new home.

I left the flat, and phoned my boss that I wasn't coming back in today, and took the next few days off in order to clean the flat before I moved my things in and get settled.

I returned to my current flat, packing the rest of my things, and planning how I'd like to decorate.

I smiled as I finally fell asleep for one of the last times in this flat.

_Everything is going to be perfect._


	3. In Too Deep

I found that I couldn't sleep well that night. I woke up about 4:30 in the morning. I put on a baggy shirt, and a pair of gym shorts, gathered my cleaning supplies, and headed to my new flat.

Working hard until 9, I managed to get rid of the mold, and the only room left to clean was the bathroom. I took a break when I heard the scuffle of feet coming down the stairs. I propped my mob against the wall, and saw Sherlock standing there in a sheet.

"Good morning, Mr. Holmes. Did I wake you?" I couldn't help but be amused at his appearance.

"A fine right job you've done by this flat. I have half a mind to ask if you could do the same to ours."

I laughed, "I'm not done yet, Sherlock. Of course, perhaps your flat wouldn't look so bad if you could refrain from spray painting the walls."

"John still hasn't come back," he said. He seemed sad, like his puppy had run away. "Have you tried calling him?"

He gave me a face of pure stubbornness. This man may be a genius, but he was a child. "Go get dressed, Sherlock. Pants, at least. I'll go get some breakfast for us, then we'll call John."

I knocked on Sherlock's door with biscuits and bacon, and he answered much more joyously than when he'd come to me earlier, fully clothed.

"Sasha!" he said excitedly, "Wonderful news! John has returned!" I saw him past Sherlock; I'd never formally met him before.

I sat the breakfast on the counter as John got up from his chair to hobble over to greet me. I shook his outstretched hand, "Pleasure to meet you,." I greeted, "Detective Inspector Sasha Key."

He muttered his introductions, as Sherlock impatiently announced to John that I was their new neighbor.

"Neighbor?" John echoed. "Yes," I answered, "In exchange for helping Sherlock yesterday, he got Mrs. Hudson to show me 221C. I officially move in tomorrow."

I made a little small talk with John as Sherlock ran around us, doing one of his experiments.

"I have to go," I finally announced, needing to get supplies from the hardware store to make a few improvements. I pointed the breakfast on the counter to John, "I bought Sherlock breakfast, there's plenty for you too, John."

I said my farewells to John, and shouted goodbye to Sherlock, who only waved it off in annoyance.

I was actually picking out paint when I ran into Jim Moran again. Or rather, he ran into me. Quite literally.

He apologized quickly, and helped me up from where he'd knocked me down. I noticed he had small things in his hands, few items required for everyday maintenance and a night light. I also noticed the slight look of panic on his face.

And then I understood why he was running when workers rounded the corner in pursuit of him. "Jim!" I said loudly, catching their attention. "Thank you for bringing these to me." I'd hoped it'd be enough to make them go away; it wasn't. "Ma'am, he was trying to steal those things, he needs to be reported to the authorities."

I grinned sweetly at the pudgy manager. He seemed like a man that would throw you out of the store for sneezing. "Well then, you're in luck. I _am_ the authorities," I flashed my badge at him, "Detective Inspector Sasha Key. I'm sure it was a misunderstanding. I'll take care of it."

He seemed red in the face. But he left, after baring at his employees to quit standing around and get back to work.

Jim was incredibly embarrassed. His face was red, and if his hands weren't full, he'd probably be trying to hide his face. "Thank you for that," he mumbled, "You really didn't have to do that."

I tried my best to smile warmly, whether I succeeded or not, I couldn't tell you (since I can't see my own face.)

"Don't worry about it, Jim. I need a man like you to do a job for me. And you can't very well do it if you're spending the night in jail." I glanced down at the light bulb, "and I was afraid of the dark once."

So he helped me get all the things I needed; whether he was helping me find things, or giving me advice that would really help. He wasn't as flirty during this encounter, and I actually found myself laughing and joking with him.

I paid for my things, and his things too, which wasn't very much at all, so he offered to help carry my things to Baker street. Under normal circumstances, I'd be wary about inviting a stranger to my flat, but I was about to hire him to move my things there anyway, so I didn't see the harm.

Sherlock and John were leaving as we were coming in, so I introduced Jim.

"Sherlock, John! Lovely to see you out. This is my new friend, Jim Mortan. He's going to help me move my things tomorrow." I informed them, and then turned to speak to Jim, "These are my neighbors. The great Sherlock Holmes, and the fabulous Dr. John Watson." I pointed to them respectively.

Jim and john muttered polite hellos to each other, while Sherlock just stared. And I knew what he was doing. Jim seemed to feel uncomfortable under Sherlock's gave. He glanced at me as if he wanted to say something, decided against it, and ushered John along. I could hear him whining about it until he got into the taxi, "Hurry up John, The game is afoot!"

I showed Jim into my apartment, and he seemed to fall in love with it as much as I did. He put the bags down, and started showing me the easiest way to install my new ceiling fan when his phone rang.

"Hello?" he asked cautiously, as if he couldn't believe this person was actually calling him. "Auntie Em, it's nice to hear from you…" he trailed off, as if it really wasn't all that nice. "Wha.. He did what?" I could hear the hurt in his voice. "Auntie Em, if that's what he wants, and it's okay with you, then I don't really have much of a choice." there was a long pause while he listened to what she had to say before finally agreeing to meet her in an hour, and hanging up.

"Is everything okay, Jim?" I asked cautiously. He looked at me, and I could see the tears welling in his eyes. "My brother.." he started. "My brother called my aunt, that he wanted to live with her. Because he doesn't think I can take care of him."

Personally, I kind of agreed. I mean.. Here he was, standing in a strangers apartment, trying to get just a few dollars. He didn't have any sort of job, and if he couldn't afford a night light, how did he expect to keep the power on for it?

But I said none of that. I simply hugged him, and he sobbed into my shoulder for a few minutes.

"Hey," I started, "Why don't you go meet your aunt with your brother, and then you come back here? You really shouldn't be alone after an ordeal like that."

He nodded silently, wiping his tears away as manly as he could.

I snatched his cell phone to put my number in it, and walked him back outside, and waved by to him.

I walked back inside to start painting.

_What the hell was I doing?_


	4. Moth to a Flame

It was several hours later, the sun had set a few hours ago. I hadn't hurt from Jim. I didn't know whether to be worried or not. I'd completely finished painting. All that was left now was to clean up the mess I'd made painting, and moving my furniture and things. I had just taken a seat on the floor for a break when I heard a knock on my propped open door, followed by foot steps coming down the stairs.

I looked up to see John, looking around, apparently impressed by my handy work.

"Nice flat," he complimented.

I could only laugh warmly, "Thanks. It'll be even nicer once there's an actual place to sit."

He only chuckled, "Right! Well, I was coming to ask if you'd like to join me for dinner. Running around with Sherlock, I haven't really had a chance to eat. And you seem like one of those types that gets caught up in things and forgets to eat."

I wanted to laugh; I never really go without food. I was about to decline his offer when I both felt and heard my stomach rumble. I could see John had heard it too. "I would love to." I answered, standing. "Just let me clean myself up a little,"

It was about 30 minutes later, I was cleaned and dressed. I texted Jim, to see if he might be interested

_Going to dinner with John, want to join us? -SK_

_Not tonight, sorry. Taking care of a few things -JM_

_Okay, You'll definitely help me move tomorrow morning though? -SK_

_Definitely, see you in the morning, Love -JM_

It wasn't long afterwards that I found myself in the boys' flat, and then going with them to Sherlock's favorite Chinese place.

We laughed over rice and egg rolls as John and Sherlock told me about their last case. Well, mostly John. Sherlock mostly corrected John.

Sherlock was odd, I had to admit. I did feel a connection with him, just not a very verbal one.

When I was around Sherlock, I felt like everything was understood. That nothing _needed_ to be said.

I wasn't sure yet if I liked it, or what would come of it exactly. Sherlock's gaze was something I was actually kind of addicted to. I've spent so much of my life so incredibly invisible to everyone, it made me happy to have Sherlock come along, and pierce that veil. That in one look, someone could actually know me, and appreciate me for what I was.

John, however, was a different story. I had instantly loved him. HE reminded me of my late brother, Sam. He even kind of looked like him. I always imagined if Sam hadn't died in that automobile accident if he would've turned out a lot like John.

And then there was the case of Jim. He was a puzzle. Like now, when I wasn't near him, I could see that something wasn't precisely right about him. But when he was there, in front of me, I was bedazzled. I felt a curiosity to know more. He had a dizzying effect that dulled all of my senses and hypnotized me to come in closer.

I hated to admit it, but I wanted him. I was rather drawn to Jim like a moth to a flame. And I knew that no matter what, I was going to get burned. And yet I couldn't help but venture closer.

"So you're moving your things tomorrow?" Sherlock asked, breaking me out of my thoughts. "Yes!" I couldn't help but smile, "Would you boys like to help me? Damsel in distress can't carry a couch by herself," I winked.

John agreed happily while Sherlock turned up his nose like I'd asked a child if he wanted to eat Brussels sprouts. I couldn't help but chuckle. This insane genius, so much like a child.

We sat talking, and giggling (well.. Mostly me giggling) for a few hours. When I yawned, I decided that I was tired and wanted to go to bed.

The boys walked me out, and we parted ways outside.

My last night at my apartment. How exciting!

I took a long, much needed bath in my glorious tub. I loved that tub; perfect for soaking. That would be one thing I would certainly miss. But my new tub was just as good too.

I crawled into my bed, phone in hand.

I texted Jim, but I fell asleep before it even went through.

_I want to get started about 6:00 in the morning, if that's good with you? Missed you tonight, hated you couldn't make it! XO -SK_

**So I wanted to apologize to you guys for taking so long to get this chapter.. And apologize for how short it is. I've been really busy lately, trying to find a job, and getting ready to start school. (College Freshman.. How Exciting :3) **

**And I've got to be honest with you guys.. My boyfriend was going **_**away **_**for college. So I was spending my last bit of time with him. **

**But! My life is in order now. I'll get back to posting longer chapters on a regular basis. Until midterms come along. **

**So I feel really bad to ask you, but will you please tell me what you think? It would be much appreciated :3**


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